


Reminder

by Kezi



Category: Steven Universe (Cartoon)
Genre: Blood, F/F, Halloween AU, pearlmethyst - Freeform, steven booniverse, uh amethyst eats a deer, vampire pearl, werewolf amethyst
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-24
Updated: 2016-01-24
Packaged: 2018-05-16 01:47:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5808610
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kezi/pseuds/Kezi
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Oh.” Amethyst sounds subdued, as though treading on thin ice. It isn't subtle, the way she snuggles closer. "Do you regret it? Following Rose?"</p><p>Pearl sighs and glances down at her. Dark blue eyes lower, finding better interest in staring at her lap.												</p><p>Tentatively, she brings her lips to the corner of Amethyst's mouth, a gesture that startles even herself, and the werewolf makes a short, gravelly noise low in her throat that Pearl notes as surprise. If she were even alive enough to blush, she definitely would be. </p><p>"How could I?" She responds instead, running her fingers fondly across the other woman's jawline. "I got to meet Garnetstien . . . and you."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reminder

**Author's Note:**

> wtf do werewolves even eat

The sky is dark, and her skin is numb to the cold, and as always, Amethyst is blazing way ahead of her at a pace she loathes trying to keep up with, and honestly, it’s just the same as every other night.

Or, almost. Every other night of a full moon, at least.

“You’ve been so _slow_ lately!” Pearl hears her complain in a voice rumbling with hunger, somewhere up front and out of sight. “Move that ass if you wanna taste!”

Pearl merely huffs petulantly, (does she even want _anything?)_ but her pace quickens as she allows herself to ignore physics just a little, and it takes an effort that she’s too bothered to give, and she doesn't really want to be here doing this tonight.

By the time she catches up, the damage is already done, red staining grass, spilling black into the soil. In no way is it beautiful. In no way is it artistic. It just _is,_ barbaric in the twisted way that they are.

Amethyst sits back on her haunches, the mangled body of a deer lying before her. In a way, it reminds her of the pets who present their prey before their owners.

“Well?” Amethyst watches her, impatient and hardly sane, practically vibrating in place. “ _You want some or not?_ ”

“Er-” Upon closer inspection, Pearl notices the exact spot where the animal lay. She pays special attention to the bed of pink roses, the way the thorns curl and twist- they remind her of someone extraordinary. And it’s a wonder, really, how someone who’d meant so much to her in the past could make her feel so awful in the now.

“N-No, I’m fine.” She rubs her arms, looking at anything but the scene before her. “I’m not hungry.”

And as Amethyst digs in with reckless, messy abandon, Pearl leans against a tree, mind whirring a mile a minute, trying not to think about a thing.

* * *

 

Amethyst smells of wet fur, burning wood, and iron.

She curls brazenly up against her, nestled in her lap, head resting upon Pearl’s bony shoulder.

And she says, hesitantly, hot breath in Pearl’s ear, “You tryna let yourself wither away again, P?”

 _Again_. As if Pearl intends to. And she never does, really, it just tends to happen, her loss of appetite alongside these hampering bouts of depression.

But she sighs, deeply, from the hollowest part of her being, “Of course not, Amethyst.”

“Feels like you are.” Her voice is still a low growl, but it’s getting softer. _She’s_ getting softer, less hard muscle and rough bristles of fur, and more pudgy flesh and fluffy hair.

Pearl tilts her head back to gaze through an overhead window. Nearly dawn. Almost time for her to sleep.

“Well, I assure you, I’m not,” she finally replies, weary, but not really. Not physically, yet something inside would very much like to wither and fade. Unconsciously, her fingers tangle in Amethyst’s wild, chestnut mane.

Amethyst mumbles something incoherent against her neck. Pearl shivers at the brush of her lips- she’s human again. Then, “You’re thinkin’ about her, though, right?”

Pearl fidgets anxiously with one lock of the werewolf’s hair. She’s always liked how the ends turn a lighter shade.

“Who do you mean?”

She’s nudged, quite vigorously. “C’mon, P.”

“I'm _always_ thinking about her,” She finally grumbles, rubbing her eyes tiredly with the heels of her hands. She doesn’t want to speak of this now. She should be sleeping, but Amethyst’s body shields her from the slight stream of sunlight, and the curtains will shut automatically in a few minutes anyway, so she doesn’t quite have a sensible excuse handy. “How can I not be? S-She’s . . .” A deep inhale. “I’m like this because of her . . .”

It eats excessively at her mind- made eternal by the one closest to her heart, only for her to give up her immortality for someone else. She still doesn't understand it, and she hates it- how all she spends her days doing is writing dismal pieces, wondering why Rose Quartz would leave them as she did.

“Oh.” Amethyst sounds subdued, as though treading on thin ice. It isn't subtle, the way she snuggles closer. "Do you regret it? Following Rose?"

Pearl sighs and glances down at her. Dark blue eyes lower, finding better interest in staring at her lap.

Tentatively, she brings her lips to the corner of Amethyst's mouth, a gesture that startles even herself, and the werewolf makes a short, gravelly noise low in her throat that Pearl notes as surprise.

If she were even alive enough to blush, she definitely would be. "How could I?" She responds instead, running her fingers fondly across the other woman's jawline. "I got to meet Garnetstien . . . and you."

Amethyst looks up at her, bottom lip between her teeth to muffle a smile, "So you're glad that you met me . . ."

Now Pearl just feels flustered. When Amethyst shifts atop her leg, Pearl tries to ignore that she's naked. Huffily, she replies, "That's a given."

And then Amethyst kisses her, soft, full lips over her own, and it's Pearl's turn to be stunned. By no means is it their first, as they tend to happen sporadically throughout the decades that _she's_ been gone, but it always _feels_ brand new at least, and Amethyst is somehow always a feeling she isn’t numb to.

“I love that I met you too, Pearl,” she breathes against her mouth, and Pearl can taste the disgustingly tantalizing trace of animal blood. Amethyst intertwines their fingers just as the curtains above close mechanically to block out the sun. “And- and you don't have to let it haunt you that she left us behind . . . we’ve still got each other . . . and good ol’ Garnetstien, right?”

It’s always pleasantly surprising when Amethyst says things like this; Pearl likes when she’s open, and honest, and she can only nod and blink away what are probably tears at her words. She wipes her eyes with the backs of her hands while Amethyst practically melts against her, chin resting on her shoulder.

“I can stay for a wink, right, P?” She mumbles tiredly into Pearl’s neck, and it takes Pearl a second to process her request.

“You always do,” she replies half annoyed and half amused, but she doesn't think she could ever say no, doesn't think she could ever go to sleep without the werewolf there with her.

 _“Right_ here?”

She considers the other monster’s words. She supposes it sounds like the usual clingy, affectionate Amethyst, but she can't help but feel like Amethyst is asking this for her. “Alright . . .”

Amethyst hums a pleased sound in response and Pearl leans up against the wall, resting her cheek on the unruly mass of her hair. And she cherishes these familiar moments where she can sit with her like this, feel her against her body, and remember that she doesn't have to dwell on that of the past.

Especially when she can remember that there are nice things here in the present too.

“Night, Pierogi,” Amethyst says, sluggish and nearly inaudible, and just her tone itself makes Pearl drowsy as well.

“It's _dawn_ , Amethyst . . . but goodnight.”

**Author's Note:**

> anyway, i've got a headcanon that pearl would definitely make some contraption in her castle that would automatically close the curtains for her right as the sun rises so that there'd be no accidental sunlight burns, so that explains... that.
> 
> -
> 
> also that probs wasn't a comfortable position to fall asleep in


End file.
